A Bunch of Things About Me

1. I'm a native Californian
2. 3rd generation, at that...
3. I took a "career" test in high school and my two best career choices were "forest ranger" & "free-lance shepherd"
4. I rigged the test (I knew I was a musician, so taking the test was a waste of time, but we had no choice...)
5. My councilor was not amused, neither were my parents, I thought it was hilarious
6. I had a subscription to Mad magazine in 7th-8th grade
7. I took tap and hula dance lessons 4th or 5th grade, and ballroom in 8th...
8. I have never enjoyed dancing...
9. I learned to read before I started Kindergarten, I was 3 at the time...
10. I remember my 2nd birthday and have a few "glimpses" before that...[but where are my keys...?]
11. I watched the 3 Stooges as a kid, but slapstick gives me a headache...[we had 3 channels...]
12. I have never sent or received a text message
13. I don't get what all these people have to talk and text about all the time...
14. I taught 7th & 8th grade for 21 years [17 years band & orchestra, 4 years English]
15. During that time, I confuscated 2573+ notes, most of which were, "does he/she like me ?"
16. I escaped before cell phones and texting proliferated
17. I was athleticly inclined in a world before Title 9
18. I played softball [my favorite] in grammar school, I didn't care for basketball[girls rules...] or volleyball
19. My sport choices in high school were swimming and tennis, that's all they had for girls
20. I was "discovered " as a budding tennis star, but was injured during the summer and could not play again
21. In college for PE, I took "team sports" and had to endure volleyball and basketball [girls rules,yuck ! ] again...
22. I was required in 9th grade, along with ALL other 9th grade girls, to take "Home Ec"
23. I had had 4 years of "Foods" in 4H...
24. I HATE sewing, my Mom was really good at it....
25. I disliked playing the piano, my Mom was really good at it AND she was my teacher
26. I started playing the trumpet because there were no more trombones available at my school...[not to mention no French Horn or strings at all...]
27. I've ALWAYS sung...even if only to my cats...
28. I was a soprano[solos in 1st & 2nd grade] until 4th grade when my voice "changed"
29. I was always an alto because I could read music, but I did not have a good voice for solos anymore
30. As I got older, I was always in Band[or Orchestra, if there was one to be in...]
31. I always took choir as soon as I had an elective open in high school and college
32. I was in lots of "Honor" bands and orchestras, but never choirs
33. I knew I wanted to go to UOP after my 1st year of Pacific Music Camp[1961,summer after 7th grade]
34. My career goal was "music teacher", since all my musical role models were music teachers....
35. I attended college on a "full, 4 year" music scholarship
36. I left grad school with a "college loan" debt of $8500.00 [a lot back then...1972]
37. My first years tuition at UOP was $1400.00, only Stanford and USC cost more on the West Coast...
38. I only had to pay back half my student loan debt because the school I taught at was "low-economic,disadvantaged"
39. I enjoyed working with 7th & 8th graders, especially the music kids, (them, I miss...the last year or so, not much)
40. I tend to live in my head [it can happens when you are retired and live alone [cats don't count...]
41. I am not obsessed with cats, I just live with a bunch of them [who are not obsessed with me either, believe me...]
42. We had a dog [shepherd mix] who came as a half-grown pup when I was in 4th grade or so we called "Finkie" or "Dorey"
43. Her given name was "Doris the Finkosaurus" [we had been watching "The Flintstones"]
44. I don't suffer fools gladly or otherwise...
45. I am an "autumn" color-wise
46. Not too big a stretch... I mostly like earth-tones, but bright colors can dazzle me, pastels...not my thing
47. I adore pomegranites, also Comice pears
48. I talk to myself, all the time...
49. I rarely disagree with myself, but it does happen...
50. I have been on the "cold" side of the Berlin Wall (1977)
51. I have been on 3 classical recordings that won Grammys (CSO Chorus)
52. I was in Whos Who in American Colleges and Universities, 1970
53. I was in Who's Who Among Americas Teachers,2006 [after I retired...]
54. As a jr. high band director, I counted about $250,000 in candy sale money, mostly $1's and change...
55. I am a cancer survivor, I just have 9 and 1/2 fingers...
56. Fall is my favorite season : leaves, wood smoke, angle of the sun, crisp air, coziness....
57. I don't mind winter here...but 20 below,snow and ice are OK only if you don't have to go out into it...I did...
58. I like the rebirth of Spring...the smell of earth and green growing things
59. Summer is fine[see Spring] as long as I don't have to be hot when I sleep, or try to sleep...
60. I prefer jeans and tees/sweatshirt/sweaters to anything froo froo, I am not a "girly" girl
61. I do not own a dress or skirt, nor have I for 20 years...
62. I have wide feet [EEEE] and wear only comfortable shoes...I've had cowboy boots I loved, but like heels,I just can't.....
63. I reread books I like many times...
64. I like series...books that keep an established group of characters going... like "Mitford"
65. I sat down when I finally had all 6 Star Wars movies and watched them in order, in one day...[a wish from 1977...]
66. I used to have all the org. Star Trek TV shows, home taped on Betamax...
67. I have a lot of Star Trek novels,including the "Phoenix" ones...if you're into Trek books, you know they are out of print...
68. If I have read/am going to read a book, I keep it... I generally collect the paperback versions...
69. I have a pretty complete collection of the Eleanor Roosevelt mysteries, as well as Nero Wolfe
70. I was born at the end of FDR's fourth and final term, just before Truman beat Dewey...
71. I have eaten a psuedo-Seder [KFC] with Jewish friends in Skokie ,IL...the food was donated by my Muslem boss...
72. I have eaten a traditional seder at a Catholic church...
73. I have preformed at a Renaissance feast,[Bancieri "Festino"], in costume singing and telling dirty jokes in Italian...
74. One of our numbers was the "Bestial Madrigal"...I sang "the cat"....
75. The director of the Chicago Symphony Chorus was there, my performance almost caused her to choke on her chicken leg.
76. She was a cat lover and recognized talent when she saw it...
77. I love wind chimes and "collect" them for their sound...
78. When the wind blows hard, it's difficult to sleep for all the racket in my back yard...
79. I like browsing in used book stores and antique shops...
80. I avoid flea markets...[I recognize my addiction....]
81. "Hello, my name is Catsinger and I am a pack rat..."
82. So was my Mom...
83. My Chinese horoscope sign is the "Rat", so was hers...
84. My "number" is 9...the number of completion...2007 is a "9" year
85. My Mom died on 01/17/2007...[add the digits...]
86. I have a younger brother who lives in WA,his daughter, my niece, is 13,she plays flute and tenor sax, has 2 cats and is in the 9th grade...
87. I can't fit my car in my garage...not that I really care...
88. I have 3 teaching credentials, a Masters degree[music], almost an MLS degree[librarian] and close to a Doctorate[music]
89. My favorite style of furniture is Mission/Craftsman
90. I also like Deco or Bauhaus..that 20's/30's look
91. Modern, Mid-century Modern, etc... not for me...I can appreciate the lines, but not for me...
92. I was a witch in a h.s. drama club production once... never really had the chance to "act" otherwise, always wanted to...
93. I have been told "..but who would play the trumpet if you (sang/ were onstage/ etc) ? [pick one...] a number of times...
94. When I worked at a BIG church, I did both, at the same time [or in very close progression...]
95. I have been told by more than one musical director, "I never really appreciated you..." when they/I left...[sigh]
96. I have stuck my foot "in my mouth" so often I have "pruney toes"...
97. I have a problem watching either "Dances with Wolves" or Braveheart" all the way through without changing the channel...
98. I have ,obviously, NEVER watched "Silence of the Lambs" or any movie with "Chainsaw" in the title...[nightmares...]
99. I never thought I could think-up this many bits of trivial "things about me..."

Sumo's song...

It was almost 5 PM and as I hurried through the parking lot of Eastside Mudville Middle School... the early November chill was settling in under the deepening dusk as I took the usual "short cut" through the neighborhood and came upon one of my students, an erswhile flautist, who flagged me down. As I lowered the window, she pointed to another girl who was standing over by the side of the road, poking at something with her foot. "There's a kitten and it's not moving"' she said, obviously upset. My students all knew me as the "cat lady" who took in the strays there always seemed to be at EMMS, so she was pretty sure I'ld help "the poor kitty". I went over to the other girl and looking down, picked up a very small, long haired black kitten who was limp in my hands. The kitten was burning up with fever and upon closer inspection I saw why... there was large abcess on it's side, probably from a bite... as I held him, he opened his eyes, looked at me and mouthed a silent "meow",then closed his eyes and dropped his head... The cold wind nudged me as I told my student that I would take him to my vet. I didn't tell her that I was thinking that he was probably going to be put to sleep, as he was very weak, sick and young, but I couldn't leave such a sick kitten to die on a cold street...On the way to my vets', I held the little guy on my chest and talked to him. He seemed totally content to be in soft, warm hands and by the time I arrived at the vets', the abcess had broken open and had begun to drain. My vet.,Dr.Kindhands, was about to close, but he had no problem helping me. As he held the little guy, probing the oozing abcess, the kitten opened his eyes and this time, managed a weak, but audible, meow...Dr.K looked at me and said,"the draining is a good sign...Let's give him some antibiotics, fluids and food,[he was very thin...], and see how he does overnight...he probably won't make it, but I'ld like to give him a chance". I agreed and went home. Daily, for 2 weeks, I'ld call or drop by to see how he [I now knew it was a little boy cat...] was..I learned that he was only about 4 weeks old when I found him, so he had to be bottle-fed for the first 2 weeks. Dr.K put a drain in his abcess, which had to be cleaned and medicated daily...he also got antibiotics and at first he got IV fluids too. Dr.K told me after about 2 weeks that every morning when he came in and passed the cage, he fully expected the kitty to be dead...but, against all odds, every morning, the little guy would open his eyes and meow, then go back to sleep, after he began to get stronger, he would reach through the cage to make contact...... It was about at the 2 or 3 week point that Dr.K, upon closer examination while removing the drain, discovered that the little guy also had a bad case of an infectious skin disease that required isolation from other furry beasts. As daily medicated baths, with scab debreeding was the only treatment, much like that a horribly burned person endures as they heal...Dr.K and his assistant were both amazed at the little guys' unfailing good nature in the face of all this daily pain...most cats are not patient with a bath, especially one followed by scab picking and repeated daily, for weeks... but the little guy was loving and cooperative in the face of all of it, and in January, I was able to hold him for the first time since that November day I rescued him. He was a classic Persian, with the flat face, big yellow-green eyes and very long charcoal hair. If you brushed the fur backwards, the underside was cream... but what struck me was his short legs and very plump tummy...I said to him,"Hey, little guy, that's quite a tummy you have ! You look like a Sumo wrestler !"...and he had a name. He was supposed to be completely non-contageous and would have his final baths in the next few days, being able to come home with me soon, but by the next afternoon, I had a couple of red, itchy spots on my hand . Something was wrong. On my way home, I stopped in at the vets... Dr.K said that he bet he knew what it was and his black light confirmed it, Sumo had ringworm and had given it to me... Dr.K told me what to get at the drugstore to heal my problem and set about treating Sumo. Finally, in February 1989, after he had spent almost 4 months of his 4+ months of life at the vets, I brought Sumo home. Before I left the vets with Sumo, I told Dr.K that I was afraid to see my bill, not just because Sumo had been there for so long, but also because of all the "hands-on" treatment he had been given...Dr.K shook his head, smiled and said that he had been afraid to see the total too, which turned out to be in excess of $2600.00[today, it would probably be more like $4000.00], but he said if I could handle $600.00, to cover the cost of medicine, he and his assistant would be glad to donate their services, as they had come to love the sweet little cat who wouldn't give up. A deal was struck and I often referred to him as my "$6,000,000.00 cat".
Once I got him home, everything just seemed to be normal with him there. He was small, but blended right in due to his "live and let live" attitude. Even Big Joey, alpha cat and leader of the "clone kitties"[his 3 littermates I had taken from the Pound wagon], liked him. I've seen him move through hostile territory eliciting nary a growl or hiss from some really hard to get along with kitties....even after spending years being separated from the larger group in the house,[I had a few older kitties who lived in the back yard, coming into my bedroom at night, because they didn't "play well with the others" Sumo had joined them because he enjoyed the freedom of being outside and he always came in when I called] Sumo could walk among the kitties who didn't know him at all, and be unmolested. Sumo's best attribute, as far as I was concerned, was his ability to "hug"...he would come bouncing up to me, meowing, and when I picked him up, he would manage to make me feel embraced... he would make beds,[kneading with his big, strong paws but keeping his claws under wraps, in deference to my human frailty] close his eyes, drool, and rub my chin with his forehead,,,all the while, purring lustily...he would love on me for a while and then, with a quick little movement, give me a little kitty kiss on my chin or nose, if he could reach it, then bounce off to prowl his yard, stalk prey or just sleep in the garden. Sumo left me in July 2006...he had been getting weaker and had issues of aging as do we all...the nasty heat storm was too much for him and Dr. Softheart, [Dr.K's friend who became my vet when Dr. K left us in 1998] put him to sleep as I held him and he held me...I feel blessed every time I think of him and how brutish and short his life almost was... how glad I am that I was there when he needed someone. When I am asked why I have had so many kitties over the years and still have a "small mob" even today, I often say, quite truthfully, that each of them would have been long dead, often under really bad circumstances, had I not stopped and picked them up, taking them in and being "theirs"...I did that for Sumo then and I'ld do it again tomorrow for the next one...

gifts of the Meow-guys...

Miz Minka has bumped my memory, causing me to remember just some of the numerous gifts, lovingly bestowed upon me by various members of the feline purrsuasion... ages ago, before the crust of the earth cooled, I spent 5 fruitful years living in Chicagoland , while I attended grad school, etc.... my feline companions included 3 "lifers", who came with me from Mudville and then returned to CA with me when the -40 winters grew tiresome... Tiger, the elder statescat, had medium longish fur of the most intense red and snowy white...his trademark pluming tail,often carried in a question mark, demonstrated his "nice guy" cattitude to the world, even though  his habit of catching one side of his lip on his gum, displaying one remarkably, menacing fang, seemed to indicate a dark side he never possessed... he was, of course, known about the house as "Fang"... Max was a silver, black and creamy white,"mackerel" [spotted] tabby..he was a snuggler, very brave and bore no creature ill will... Barney, [Max's half brother {different litters,same mom...} was a "Movie Star Cat"... he was big, a long haired black & grey tabby, with the tabby poured over a snowy white chin/throat and legs/underbody...he had huge, bright green eyes and reminded one of a gorgeous, but not-too-bright hunk ... since he LOVED being the center of attention and often did goofy things, he was named after the "Barney Fife" character on the Andy Griffith show  [Max was a lot like the "Andy" character, but I didn't think of that until later...] All three had 4 white feet and I used to remind them that "good guys had white paws..." Besides the gift of their warm, purring catly selves for all the years we had together ... they firmly believed that a well-chosen "gift", from time to time, was needed to cement our relationship ... my apartment was a "garden apt" [the window sills were at ground level...] not orginally intended as a "habitable space"[let's face it, it was the basement and had the hot water pipes for the upper 2 flats,  visible,  under the ceiling to prove it...] during the housing shortages of WW II, it was made into a 2 bdrm flat...the upper two flats in the brownstone had one more[ larger] bedroom and a bigger kitchen over what, on my level, was kept as the communal basement ... set-up in "shotgun" style, it had a large bay-shaped, front[living] room, filled with windows,[eastern exposure,very bright] ...on the outside of the windows, was a boxwood hedge, since the bottom of the windows was ground level...one of the center windows had a torn screen, making it the perfect point for cat disembarcation/re-entry.... the kitties would lurk under the hedge, watching... they didn't go out at night, so the "vantage" point was perfect for spying, sniffing, scritching and hunting... one sunny morning in late spring,[May or June], I was doing chores in the back end of the apt., after freeing the captives to prowl their kingdom...an hour or so later, as I strolled into the front room, I was stopped in my tracks...on the sunny floor in front of me were dozens of grasshoppers, leaping,  jumping, flying short distances... none too big, an inch or so, but a plague just the same...as I stared, open-mouthed and speechless, in the window bounced Max...eyes gleaming, ears twitching, with a grasshopper in his mouth... he jumped down on the floor, and let his prey go...of course, it jumped away and he chased it, scattering the other grasshoppers, who also jumped in every direction....with his tail straight up in the air, ears back, eyes blazing, fangs barred, trilling little chirps, he pursued his prey with little pounces and manic scurries... as the little critters eluded his best efforts, [wood floors didn't offer much traction for his pursuit...], he did a frenetic circle on the furniture and leapt out the window..... stunned, I burst out laughing... until he appeared in the window again with another grasshopper in his mouth , hopped down and the dance began again... quickly, I calculated how many trips he must have already made, [there were dozens of grasshoppers in the room...], and, not knowing just how many young grasshoppers were "left" outside, I was unwilling to "let nature take it's course"... as Max, prey-less once more, flew out in search of more grasshoppers, I moved to the window, entering the "killing fields. I felt the crunch under my feet, felt the bodies hit and bounce off my jeans, heard the whir of wings as one buzzed my head ... just as I got to the window and closed it, there he was again, a new grasshopper securely in his mouth... as he realized the window was closed [it never was when they were out...] he meowed his dismay, dropping his prey as he did... so I opened the window and in he bounced, past his confusion at the closed window and now pleased with himself as only a cat who has just demonstrated his status as "mighty hunter" can be.... it took over an hour to dispatch and remove as many of the grasshoppers as I could find/catch, and afforded Max, as well as Fang and Barney with "tons o' fun" for the next few days as the stragglers showed themselves , after that, I found grasshopper corpses whenever I cleaned...and when I moved out, 3 years later, I turned over the couch and found 3 dead grasshoppers, hanging on to the underside....
Sometime after the "morning of grasshoppers", Max gave me an unexpected gift...I was watching TV in the front room one evening, when Max came running in from the back of the apt...he was looking over his shoulder and growling.... as I watched him, he went back and forth, always looking back and growling... as I walked quietly back towards my bedroom, I heard a clanking sound... my bedroom window looked out on an alley, it was covered with a heavy burgler screen and since I had been robbed several times[7 total], I had wrapped the cord of my clock radio around one of the many water pipes exposed in my area as a security measure, as well as nailing the window so it only opened about 8 "... what I was hearing was someone on the outside, pulling on the clock radio, which they had pulled through the open window and pried-up screen, but the cord was wrapped around the pipe and the plug was clanking against the pipes...there were window blinds and curtains, which were closed, so I couldn't see them and they couldn't see me..without thinking, I dashed in, grabbed the cord and yelled [I can yell rather loud...]...the thief jerked the radio so hard that the plug and cord came out [I'ld like to think that I scared them big time...]...they ran off down the alley with the radio while I was left with the cord... I sat on the bed, shaking, as it sunk-in that I had just been stupid... Max, meowing, jumped up on the bed, to see how I was, followed shortly by Fang and Barney...after much hugging and "good cat-ing", I went to the kitchen, found a can of  Starkist tuna and celebrated my brave watchcat[s].... I have been the receipient of many a catly treasure... many a mouse, bug, rat and birdie have been laid on the catly love alter, but they really pale in comparison to Max's gift...
On a more mundane level, I have learned that much ado and cat praising can be quite useful in distracting the proud hunter while the prey/gift is secreted away, to be properly disposed of at a more propicious moment [without distraction, growling and jaw clamping are quickly followed by hiding under something immovable...then you get to listen to petty bickering, as the pride moves in, followed by crunching sounds, slurping and retching, resulting in other kinds of gifts, yuck !]... besides praise and petting, food is a very effective means to this end...all the petting in the world will not wrench from the keen nostrils of the mighty hunter, the tantalizing aroma of newly dispatched mouse like a simple, aromatic dish of tuna,[mouse ?,{mmmm,slurp,}, what mouse ?,{ gobble, burp}...while disposal of proper [ie already dead], offerings can be distastful...the un-dead are much more problematical... a large, half-grown, mortally injured bird, [thank you, Fang], cannot be deposited in the garbage can with out further violence on the humans' part to insure thr birds demise in as humane and quick a manner as possible...this is distasteful, disgusting and just plain hard...but it is necessary... so is taking a wounded mouse from a gleeful predator whose mother taught them to "play with their food" and flushing said mouse, to prevent further torture [note : flushing should not be attempted on anything larger than a small rodent, don't ask me how I know this, just learn the lesson...]...as morbid as this is, it is still preferable to dealing with the quite lively mouse, "freed" as part of the whole "catch, release, catch, release, ad nauseum" game, who escapes, only to be seen and heard for months as a scuttling, shadowy figure , until its' inevitable capture and execution, [prey who escape the mighty cat, only to flit about in defiance of the feline prowess, flaunting rodent superiority over feline skills, will come to an abrupt, unfortunate and messy end...] Most of my kitties are getting to be senior cat-izens, who don't go outside to joust with rodentia anymore[due to increased traffic hazards], so it's been a long time since I received one of their love offerings... the last time was 2 years ago when the new roof installation rousted a family of immature roof rats...over the period of a few days, I received one young rat per day [total 3], properly dispatched[thank you !] and lovingly placed on my bed by Sumo, the late, great hunter...each time, I would find the fresh kill sometime during the day... when he heard me find it, Sumo would bound in from the back yard, meowing, "look what I did !" and then crawl up into my arms, rub his head on my chin, make beds, drool and purr.... after a few minutes of this lovefest, he would give me a kitty kiss on the chin [yes, with the same mouth that he had used to dispatch the rat...you had to be there...] and bound out to return to his slumbers... then I was left to dispose of the carcass, at my leisure, in the garbage can.... Sumo left us last summer, after the terrible heat storm...I've had only the occasional spider since[and no good kitty kisses...]....Of course, I know that the truest gifts are the soft, warm fur, purring, kitty-kisses,lap-sleeping, bed-making, heat-seeking and comforting presences that have populated my life and have given so freely of all their treasures....during happy, carefree days, outside in the garden or around a cozy fire, in the hectic hurry-up, no time of long working days and in the dark days when loss, pain and grief have been too present .... God gives us many things during our lives ...some pleasant, some not so pleasant...but we must take the good with the bad, we have no choice in that part of it, it's a package deal, like cats and cat boxes.... we can only chose who we share it with and how we approach it...cat gifts are like that too... some are good and some are nasty...it's how we choose to accept and deal with them that makes the difference ....

it's always something...

with cats, you never know what's next... I would have bet a lot that "they" would never be able to tip over my heavy Kitchenade stand mixer, and I felt safe, storing it on the top of a cabinet in the "nook"....so, of course, I wander into the kitchen, after a blustry day/night, to find the mixer on the floor, surrounded by numerous jarred and canned goods that had been in a storage container on the counter, under the mixer's former perch.... the true miracle was that nothing was broken...not even a jar of pickles... I should have known something would be "up"...there was not a feline presence discernible , unusual for my first appearance out of the bedroom [usually an occasion for much meowing{begging} ,leg weaving{if you don't know this one, you don't know cats...} and leading me to the always empty, food dish...]  the silence was quite deafening[now that I look back...] and had I been more awake, I would have sensed the impending discovery of willful  cat distructiveness... it was one of those moments... Gettysburg, before Pickett's Charge, being in 10th grade and leaving a football rally on Nov.22,1963, at 10:30 AM,PST...or being a brontasaurus, munching a palm tree,looking up in the sky at the huge meteors plunging down...  the point at which life, as we knew it "changes" forever.... like the moment just before you hear the car running out of gas, the thumping of the flat tire, see the flashing light behind you or step in the nasty cat barf  [or worse...] ...at least these days, I don't discover their catly mischief as I'm trying to leave the house to get to work...nope , these days I have time to deal with it  [joy,rapture,bliss...]...the expensive NEW storage boxes that are now shredded[not 2 feet from a perfectly usable scatching tree...] ....the plant that becomes a "salad bar" [ignoring the wheat grass I purchased for their eating pleasure...] sigh... So after I put back the mixer and the food items, hoping the absence of strong winds would calm the little varmints ...I went back to bed...I needed a nap after all that...and who should come bouncing in the window but Piglet... "she-who-must-be-outside" and who lets me know it within 2 minutes of being unfairly incarcerated[it's dark and getting cold...] has come in to jump onto my stomach [oof !  a sneak attack...] , make beds [mit claws...] in my armpit, noodge [head-butt] my chin, drool on my chest , and finally, snore lustily in my ear...so much for my nap... my only question is : "why this nesting behavior today, at 9:30 AM ?"...I know cats are nocturnal, but every other day, when released from the unfair confinement of the house to the backyard[her rightful turf...], she goes outside, jumps up on the table or BBQ, "baths" herself ,in full view [fully orchestrated, on her part and NOT lost on me...], then stretches out and sleeps most of the day away...  morphing into a illusive figure only as the shadows lengthen, deepening into dusk...at which time ,she is like "Macavity, the mystery cat",..."not there..." ... sigh... I pity the people who know only a dog...how they miss-out on the constant shiftiness that is "cat".... how boring their lives ...how neat, orderly, un-broken and un-shredded their belongings...how free of cat hair their sofa, clothes and diet... how safe from barf, hairballs, shards of broken (fill-in space) and "other "hazards, [bio- and mental] their floors/feet.....and how empty their arms, laps and hearts... sigh... ever see that "got milk ?" commercial where the little old lady is taken-out by her kitties ?[she ran out of milk and tried subbing dry coffee creamer...they didn't "buy it"]...well, they've started to "gather", so I need to open a can...wish me luck...